


interstitial

by katplanet



Series: sleep to the freezing [4]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Canon-Typical Drug Use, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Oral Sex, Questionable Time Travel Etiquette, can stand alone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:00:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27054568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katplanet/pseuds/katplanet
Summary: Dave wakes up to a mouth on his neck and fingers skimming the waistband of his underwear, which is unusual.He'd be concerned if he could hear any of the usual morning noises - conversations, bodies, the loudnesses of a lot of men sharing not a lot of space. But all he's getting is clean air and the shifting of bedsheets. The wet click of lips against his skin."Morning, baby," Klaus says next to Dave's ear.[A day in the leave of Privates Hargreeves and Katz.]
Relationships: Klaus Hargreeves/David "Dave" Katz
Series: sleep to the freezing [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1327031
Comments: 20
Kudos: 116





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**Author's Note:**

> someone in my comments wanted a marathon, someone else wanted 69ing, and god you're both so right.

**0700 KST**

Dave wakes up to a mouth on his neck and fingers skimming the waistband of his underwear, which is unusual.

He'd be concerned if he could hear any of the usual morning noises - conversations, bodies, the loudnesses of a lot of men sharing not a lot of space. But all he's getting is clean air and the shifting of bedsheets. The wet click of lips against his skin.

"Morning, baby," Klaus says next to Dave's ear.

Klaus. Klaus, who had charmed his way into a set of keys on their first night back in town, who had led Dave to the back of a signless Saigon hotel and kissed him right there outside the door before he took him to their room. Klaus, who's tucked up along Dave's side, his fingertips trailing over Dave's belly, waiting for permission.

Dave turns toward the sound of Klaus's voice, opens his eyes to his face lit soft through the curtains over the window. He's biting his lip, smiling at Dave from the other side of their pillow. He looks like a wish.

He takes Klaus's hand in his, guides it until Klaus's palm is pressed low on his stomach. Klaus smiles wider, slips out from Dave's hold and into his boxers.

"Hell of a thing to wake up to, darlin'."

"I'll do you one better tomorrow, just say the word." Klaus's voice is hoarse, either because it's morning or because of what they did last night. Probably both. He moves close enough to kiss Dave while he strokes him, and his mouth tastes like mint. His curls are damp where they brush Dave's forehead.

Dave rolls to face Klaus, wraps his arm around the dip of his waist. "You showered without me?"

"Gonna need another one later, I'm sure. You can help me then."

Dave kisses Klaus again. His breath must be awful, but Klaus doesn't seem to care, just opens his mouth to let Dave lick inside it. He grips Dave tighter, pumps a little faster. Dave is so hard in Klaus’s hand, embarrassingly hard for how little he's been touched.

"Besides," Klaus says, warm against Dave's lips, "you were dreaming."

"Oh," Dave says. A dream, here, in Klaus's arms, pulling the outside world through their locked door, their shut window, forcing Klaus to wake him up before he started mumbling or kicking or worse-

"Seemed like a nice one, for once," Klaus says, squeezing Dave in his hand. "Didn't want to interrupt."

Ah. It was - "It was probably about you."

Klaus laughs. "Hope I was good."

"I think what you've got in your hand says you were."

"Well, then, hope I live up in the waking world."

He lets go of Dave and pushes him onto his back again, sits up and swings a leg over to straddle his lap. He's naked, skin clean and glowing, his newest tattoo dark on his stomach. Dave reaches up and touches it. He can't stop touching it, now that it's healed enough. His own name, phonetic in a script he can't read but that Klaus, with his troves of unexpected knowledge, promises him is correct. Above that, the characters for _love_.

"I got started in the shower," Klaus says, reaching between them, pulling Dave's boxers down just enough to get him in hand again. "The sounds you were making in your sleep, baby. Right in my ear. _Torture_."

Dave gets his hands on Klaus's hips, gentles his thumbs over the peaks of his bones while he sinks down onto him. Klaus sighs the same sigh he does when he has his first sip of coffee. No one else has ever made that sound about Dave, like being with him is a relief. And sure, it was nice to be moaned and yessed about when he was younger and needed the confidence, but now Dave has Klaus, the calm easy welcome of his body, the smile in his eyes when he looks down at Dave and starts to move.

"I love you," Dave tells him.

"Oh, it's gonna be like that, huh?" Klaus runs his fingertips along the bridge of Dave's nose, skips them down to his bottom lip and presses into the plush of it. "Love you, too, you big sap."

"Dunno what kind of filth you're expecting out of me when I've been awake for five minutes."

"No filth necessary," Klaus says, and he shuts his eyes, rolls his hips in Dave's lap, works him with his muscles. "Just like this, honey. You're perfect."

  
  


**0930 KST**

Dave wakes up again, stickier than he'd been the first time, Klaus curled up and passed out with his head on Dave's chest. He's blood warm in his sleep, his fingers curled loose into his palms. There's a little bit of drool on Dave where Klaus's mouth is hanging open.

The sun has been up long enough to turn the room muggy with heat and sex, but Dave stays as still as he can, keeps his breathing even. It's cozy, even if he's sweaty doing nothing. Klaus needs more sleep than he's been getting lately.

Doesn't hurt that Dave can get an eyeful like this, too. Klaus has his long lovely body draped over Dave's, lax and comfortable, and it's stunning, the way they look together. The contrast between the shapes of them. Dave is happy with his own figure, his broad muscles, the strength he's cultivated, but Klaus is strong, too. Strong like a bowstring is strong. Lithe, vibrating in perpetual motion. Dave wants to make him arch in his hands, watch him whip back into shape.

And now he's getting hard again.

On a normal day, two orgasms would be a tall order for Dave, hardly worth the effort to get himself there and back and there. He hasn't had a normal day since the moment Klaus dropped into his life. He's like a teenager again, in awe of his own body, how good it can feel - and he has Klaus to help him through it this time, his clever hands, his kisses. His dick, which is perfect in every way. Dave should maybe not think about Klaus's dick unless he wants to melt out of his own skin.

Dave's heart must have sped up, or his breathing, because Klaus shuffles closer, closes his mouth, presses his cheek into Dave's pec. He wakes up so gradually, even when they're on patrol and getting hounded into their boots before they've had a chance to yawn. Dave indulges him, lets him snuggle and make sleepy noises. Reaches one hand up to Klaus's head and pets through his curls.

"Ngh." Klaus smooshes his face between Dave's ribs.

"Mornin'," Dave says, "again."

"Pee," Klaus says. He drags himself off Dave and off the mattress, sways on his feet, staggers away in the direction of their little bathroom.

Dave takes the chance to resettle himself, and, ah. There's the ache. It's nothing terrible, just something extra to notice when he moves certain ways. A tug in his thighs, between his hips.

It's the first time he's ever really _felt it_ the next day. But: yesterday. Yesterday, in the wet heat of the afternoon, Klaus, brilliant Klaus, had pretzeled Dave all over, bent him every which way, stretched him and folded him and fucked him more ways than he'd ever fathomed a person could be fucked.

 _We gotta find your angles, baby,_ he'd said, curled up against Dave from behind, and Dave had nodded, thrown himself into it. Let Klaus do whatever he wanted. He had yet to lead Dave astray.

It all felt good, of course it did. But the way Dave had liked most, the one he'd finished with, Klaus had laid Dave out on his back, hooked his arms under Dave's knees, held his legs apart like that while he moved inside him. It had been vulnerable, all-encompassing, every part of Dave's body open to Klaus. Like getting pinned in a fight, except Klaus had praised him all through it with words and moans and the way he looked at him. There'd been love in every moment of it.

Klaus crawls back into bed after a few minutes away, perkier than he had been, eyes a little darker, a little less green around his pupils, which is - it is what it is. There are a lot of things in life Dave would like to change that he can't, and that's all he's going to think on it now.

“Hel- _lo_ ,” Klaus says, leaning his head on Dave’s bent knee and looking down at his lap. “What’s knockin’ around in that pretty head?”

“Thinking about yesterday,” Dave says, and there’s a little smile creeping onto his face, he couldn’t stop it if he wanted to. People have called Dave pretty before, but not like it was a good thing. Klaus says it like it’s the best thing in the world.

“Which part?”

“The part that got the backs of my thighs feeling like fuckin' taffy.”

“Oh, I liked that part.” Klaus crawls up until his face is hovering over Dave’s, his curls a mess haloing his head. “You too sore for a repeat, baby?”

“Maybe later. I’m not you, sweetheart, I don’t even know how _you’re_ you.”

“Practice,” Klaus grins, “and knowing which of my limits are negotiable.”

“Isn’t the point of a limit that it isn’t negotiable?”

“Yeah, if you’re a coward.”

“Okay, well,” Dave says, “don’t let me break you.”

Klaus plants his hands on Dave’s chest and straddles him again. “It’ll either be you or this man’s army,” and he’s smiling when he says it, which is how Dave knows it’s supposed to be a joke. Dave’s face must do something, because Klaus adds, “I'm pulling for the one who's gonna make it fun.”

“Just don’t start calling me Private,” Dave says, and Klaus leans down and kisses him.

**1030 KST**

Klaus must drive a hell of a bargain with his limits.

He’s been riding Dave for twenty minutes nonstop and he’s still going, pushing through his shaking thighs, sweat dripping down his chest. If Dave hadn’t already taken the edge off a few hours ago, he’d have come just from watching Klaus fucking himself, his eyes squeezed shut, teeth clenched and bared, all his wiry muscles working to drive him into Dave’s lap. He’s beautiful and wild and Dave needs to touch him.

He reaches up and runs his fingers through Klaus’s hair, which has gone damp again, clinging to his temples. Klaus leans into it, so Dave locks his elbow and leaves his hand where it is, lets Klaus rest his forehead on the heel of his palm and take a tiny bit of his weight off his legs. He opens his eyes, and Dave can only see one of them from behind his arm, bright and sharp. He can feel the other one’s lashes moving against his wrist.

“You make me,” Klaus says, his breath on the inside of Dave’s forearm, “fucking crazy. The way I want you.”

Dave spreads his free hand out over the small of Klaus’s back. It’s slick with sweat, he can barely get a hold on it. “You’ve got me.”

Klaus shuts his eyes again, snaps his hips. “Wanna feel you come, honey, c’mon.”

Dave bends his knees, digs his heels into the mattress, meets Klaus halfway on a thrust. Klaus _whines_ , pitches forward and bites down on the meat of Dave’s palm, not hard enough to hurt, just enough to feel, and Dave - Dave definitely feels it. He spreads his fingers over Klaus’s cheek, hooks his thumb under his jaw, holds his head in place like that while he fucks up into him. Klaus shudders, grabs onto Dave’s forearm with both hands, and Dave braces his shoulder on the mattress to take the extra weight every time Klaus lifts out of his lap. Even after Klaus stops biting, the edges of his teeth nudge into Dave's skin every time his body drops into the cradle of Dave's hips.

"You first, sweetheart," Dave says.

Klaus nods as much as he can, which isn't much, and he snatches one hand off of Dave's arm, shoves it down between them. He's vicious with the way he touches himself, ruthless. Like he wants to rip this pleasure out of himself and make room for more. 

"That's it," Dave says, running his free hand along Klaus's thigh where it’s trembling with effort.

A low moan, and Klaus comes over his own knuckles, down onto Dave's abs. It's the way the white contrasts with Klaus's tanned fingers that does it for Dave, brings him over the edge along with Klaus. Always the weird details that get him. The way Klaus's lashes flutter in sync with his breathing, or the way he grabs the sheets and pulls them away from himself, or the way he curls one foot up and the other one down. Things that Dave plays over later in the film reel of his mind, when he can't turn to Klaus and kiss him but still needs to prove to himself that all of this is real.

**1200 KST**

Klaus got his hands on some soap and a bottle of nice department store shampoo, and the water pressure is pretty good, and this shower feels like the best one Dave has ever had in his life. Partly because showers are rare fucking commodities lately; mostly because Klaus is taking it with him, tucked up slippery against Dave while they work a lather into each other's hair.

There's no way Dave is going to get hard again, not for a while, but that doesn't mean he can't touch. The soap smooths everything out, lets him glide his hands all over Klaus's chest, his back, down to his ass and back up to rub at his nipples. Klaus sighs, shampoo still in his hair, shuts his eyes and lets Dave feel on him.

He opens them again and grins when Dave gets a hand on his dick. He's mostly soft, but he spreads his legs, widens his stance to give Dave room. Dave cups him, which feels … stunningly intimate, almost moreso than touching him when he's hard. He fits in Dave's palm.

Klaus parts his lips, a sweet invitation, and Dave kisses him, squeezes gentle pressure that makes Klaus hum into his mouth. He's filling out a little, his kisses turning deep, the smell of fresh skin and this shampoo that he says is made especially for curls. Dave holds him, massages him, works him up.

Klaus slides his arms around Dave's shoulders and says, "Keep kissing me," as though Dave ever wants to be doing anything else.

**1330 KST**

They make an appearance for lunch with a few of the guys they both like. Guys who won't raise eyebrows when Klaus and Dave turn up together after spending a day and a half incommunicado in a city full of _other options_ , who won't mutter to the wrong people when they leave the same way. Who will accept it for what it is because they're kind, and also because they're hungry for food that didn't come from a can and Klaus is the one with tips on all the best spots to eat from the working girls he chats with at the bar and never lays a hand on.

Dave had watched Klaus with those girls, the first night of this trip. He's gotten used to Klaus around the rest of their patrol, funny and brash and unfiltered, but Klaus's whole demeanor had changed with the girls. He'd gone - not soft, exactly, but loose, like he'd oiled all his hinges. He'd made delicate gestures as he talked, smiled without teeth, laughed with his wrist held up to cover his mouth. Dave has never seen him look more nonthreatening, more demure, not even when it was just the two of them. It was like watching another person, except that it wasn't at all; that man at the bar was Klaus, just as much as the man who joked and spat and crawled around in the dirt was Klaus, just as much as the man who kissed Dave's lips in the middle of the night when waking and sleeping blurred into the same hellscape was Klaus.

One of the girls had glanced over her shoulder at Dave exactly once. She'd been the one to slip Klaus the keys to their hotel room as they headed out the door.

Klaus is closer to the scrappy jungle side of himself now, hunched over a bowl of noodles and not even pretending like he has table manners, but he's subdued. He glances around, now and then, takes in the bustle of Saigon around them. Keeps his voice low, even when the others get loud.

"It's pretty, here," he says to Dave, while the guys are going on about some bet they're making. "Isn't it?"

"Yeah," Dave says. "It is, huh."

"The jungle's pretty, too." Klaus shifts his leg until his knee is touching Dave's under the table. "I forget that, with what happens in it. But the jungle didn't do anything wrong."

Dave looks at Klaus as long and as hard as he can get away with in public. His curls are soft and clean after two showers in one morning, and his skin is olive from the sun. He's so _much_. Dave isn't big enough to hold all of Klaus inside him. The whole world isn't big enough for that.

"Hey, loverboy," Rook says, flicking a piece of water spinach at Dave and hitting him in the ear. "Pool for which of the Louisianas gets the clap first, you in?"

**1530 KST**

"I want to try something," Dave says.

Klaus lights up the way he always does when Dave has An Idea. "Ooh, pray tell."

"I was thinking," Dave says, "we could," and then he gets shy, which he still does sometimes despite Klaus never once judging him for having to play catch-up in bed. So he uses his hands instead of his words. Cups them like parentheses, the fingertips of each one in the palm of the other.

Klaus studies that for a moment, and then his eyes go wide in understanding. "You want to sixty-nine! Shit, do they call it that, yet?"

"You're asking me about slang. Me."

"Okay, um, don't tell anyone it's called that. Just in case."

"Noted."

"But, yes," Klaus says, "that's a thing. I'm terrible at it."

Dave sputters a laugh. Klaus just looks at him.

"Oh," Dave says, "wait, you're serious?"

Klaus nods, solemn. "Absolutely god-awful."

"Don't take this the wrong way, but I can't actually imagine you being bad at a sex thing."

"What possible wrong way is there to take that?"

"I don't know," Dave says, "I don't want you to think I'm putting you on a sex pedestal."

"You are welcome to put me on a sex pedestal. Not for sixty-nining, though, I'll disappoint you there."

"But you've given me blow jobs. You're incredible at them."

"Yeah," Klaus says, "because I'm concentrating on being incredible, which I can do because I'm not _also getting a blow job_."

"So, what," Dave says, starting to grin, "you're saying my expert master blow jobs are gonna be too distracting?"

"I'll kick you out of this bed."

"Oh, no, don't mind me, just getting an obnoxiously high opinion of myself."

"Ugh, now it's a challenge," Klaus says, sitting up and swinging around so his feet are on the pillow. "C'mere, Katz."

They end up facing each other on their sides, complementary curves. Dave has his head pillowed on Klaus's thigh, Klaus's other leg bent up at the knee to give him room to work. He has his own legs set up after Klaus's example, and Klaus is looking up at him from his lap, smiling, running his hand along Dave's waist.

"It's a good view," Klaus murmurs, "I'll give you that."

Dave keeps his eyes on Klaus's face as he reaches forward and takes him in hand, strokes him a few times. Klaus's eyes flutter shut, and he lets his breath out through his nose. Dave feels it in his thatch of hair, against the base of his dick, and he knew this would be intimate, but that's - that's a lot.

It takes some aiming, some adjustment, but Dave tilts his head back and gets Klaus in his mouth. He's getting better at this every time he does it, and it's even easier from this angle, the shaft curving neatly over his tongue. He dips his head down as far as he can go, wraps his hand around what's left, and sucks, pulls back, follows with his fist.

He's about to do it again when he feels Klaus's soft lips around him, and oh, right, okay, he can see how this could get tricky. Klaus is so skilled, plunging down on Dave right away, taking him nearly to the base before Dave realizes he's frozen with Klaus mostly out of his mouth. He shuts his eyes, focuses on the salty taste of Klaus's skin, the heat of him, and dips back down as Klaus pulls off.

It's simpler, once they find a rhythm. Klaus goes down, Dave pulls off, Klaus pulls off, Dave goes down. Dave loves sucking Klaus off, the sensory overload, the trust inherent in the act, but this, feeling Klaus's little noises of pleasure around him, the inside of Klaus's thigh twitching against his forehead as they move together - it feels closer to fucking him, sharing pleasure rather than giving it.

It makes Dave want to push himself, the way he pushes himself when they fuck. Makes him want to work harder, wring as much out of both of them as he can.

He circles his fingers low around Klaus to keep him steady, and pushes forward, relaxes his throat. Takes Klaus past the point he usually stops himself. Not too far, no risk of choking, just enough that he can feel the resistance when he swallows.

Klaus pulls off Dave and gasps into his thigh.

So Dave does it again. Pushes just the slightest bit farther, shuts his eyes when they start to water, fights the urge to gag, and swallows.

"Dave," Klaus moans, lips slick against Dave's shaft, "what the fuck, baby."

He has to pull back to breathe, just for a moment. He looks at Klaus's cock while he does it, slick with his saliva, thick and red in his hand. It's close enough to his face that he feels himself go cross-eyed. He really wants it in his mouth again.

Third time ends up being the charm. Dave gets the head all the way back into his throat and swallows around it twice before he has to pull off and cough, and Klaus hisses out through his teeth, his legs stone tense with the effort of not moving. Dave looks down at Klaus's head on his thigh, his lips puffy and pink, curls clinging to his forehead with sweat, completely focused on watching Dave work. He shudders when they make eye contact, grabs Dave's free hand in one of his and holds it tight.

"Feels good," Dave says, and his voice - holy shit. His voice sounds _wrecked_.

"Yeah, honey," Klaus says, "god damn, you're a natural. You're perfect."

Dave shuts his eyes and gets Klaus back in his mouth, works him the way he's used to for a few pulls, then dips down, down, down, then draws back, over and over, and Klaus moans and grips Dave's hand like a lifeline and ignores his dick completely, which is fine, because Dave is concentrating on being incredible.

"God," Klaus is saying, "I love you, my gorgeous man, gonna make me come with that pretty mouth-"

Dave hums, sucks harder, squeezes tighter on the upstroke, and Klaus arches into it and finishes hot and salty on the back of Dave's tongue. And hell, it's not his usual choice, but if Dave is already doing all this swallowing today, might as well keep at it.

"Oh my god," Klaus groans, his thighs flexing, squeezing Dave's hand in his, twitching between Dave's lips, "what has gotten _into_ you?"

Dave pulls off, swallows one more time, and says, "You've gotten into me."

Klaus bursts out giggling, sweet and giddy, pressing his nose into the base of Dave's dick, which is the cutest thing Dave's ever seen, at least where his dick is involved.

"I told you I was bad at this," Klaus says, taking Dave in hand, nuzzling into him.

"Dunno what planet you're on where anything about what just happened would be considered bad."

"Yeah, okay," Klaus says, "lemme hold up my end of the bargain."

He rolls Dave onto his back, takes him straight into his throat, and deliberately, almost daintily, gags around him.

"Oh," Dave grits out, "fuck off," and Klaus has to pull off again to laugh.

**1800 KST**

Klaus, bless him and his foresight, picked up extra food while they were out for lunch, and they eat dinner in their underwear at the little table across the room from the bed.

"Seriously," Klaus says, "the future. Ask me anything."

"Okay, um, who's president, when you're from?"

Klaus whistles. "Anything but that."

"That bad, huh?"

"Makes Nixon look like an upstanding gentleman."

"Wait, Nixon wins?"

"Yeah," Klaus says, "twice," and shoves a whole dumpling in his mouth. He chews, swallows, says, "Shit gets wild."

Dave leans in. "How wild?"

"Oh my god," Klaus says, "I am about to be such an irresponsible time traveler."

**2000 KST**

"Yeah, baby," Klaus mumbles into Dave's mouth, "like that."

Dave crooks a gentle rhythm of pressure into Klaus, the spot inside him that he can find with barely any effort, now. Klaus has already come from it once, and he's boneless under Dave, legs sprawled out. Dave kneels between his thighs, fucks him with his fingers while he leans over him and kisses his bitten red lips.

"You feel so good," Dave tells him, and then he says, "I'm gonna fuck you after I make you come," which is the kind of thing Dave can put words to when it's dark, when Klaus's breaths are heavy against his lips, when he's already got three fingers inside his desperate molten body.

"God," Klaus whines, "do it _now_."

Dave shakes his head, and Klaus shudders, wraps his arms around Dave's shoulders. "After."

"You want me all relaxed," Klaus says, "is that it? You'll slide, _ah_ ," he shuts his eyes, all his air punched out at a curl of Dave's fingers, "slide right in, baby, I'll be so open for you."

Dave tucks his face into Klaus's neck, lets him run his mouth, builds him up.

"Gonna take you so good," Klaus is rambling, fisting a hand in Dave's hair, "my pretty baby, I was made for you, yeah? 'Course I was. Only way it makes sense."

Dave nips at the curve of Klaus's shoulder, just gently, the suggestion of pressure, and Klaus rakes his nails across Dave's back and comes, clenching down around Dave's fingers so hard it almost hurts. Dave works him through it, draws it out until Klaus is shaking, gasping with his nose pressed to Dave's temple.

"Give it to me," he says in Dave's ear, "c'mon, honey, I earned it."

And Dave had been considering holding off, giving Klaus's body a break, maybe eating him out for a while, but that … is hard to argue with.

Dave pulls back, lets Klaus situate himself how he wants. He ends up on his side, his top leg tucked up toward his chest, the bottom one stretched out so Dave can straddle his thigh. Dave puts his hands on Klaus’s hip, pushes into him with one easy glide, and Klaus barely reacts, too exhausted to do much more than hold on to the bend of his own knee and sigh.

"S'good," Klaus says, and then he reaches up and skims his fingers past the corner of Dave's jaw, like he was aiming and missed.

Dave shifts his hips, gentle. "I love you," he tells him, and then he leans over and kisses him, lazy presses of lips to the rhythm he's fucking him.

This pace isn't going to get either of them anywhere anytime soon, but there's no way this isn't the last round of the night for both of them. Not even Klaus can go forever, and if he could, they’d still need to rest at least a little bit tonight before - before.

So like hell Dave isn't going to make it last.

Anyway, he likes it like this, the steady waves of it. Calm and patient. Making love. Klaus gets shy about asking for it the same way Dave gets shy about asking for every other thing, but he likes it, too. He goes quiet for it, and it's not that Dave doesn't like when Klaus talks, he _loves_ when Klaus talks, but he also loves to watch him as he shifts his focus entirely to himself, his own body, all the places Dave touches him. Like now, his breath fluttering out of him with every push, fingers petting the same path through Dave's hair over and over like he's forgotten there's anything else he can do with them.

“You're so beautiful,” Dave says between kisses, because he needs Klaus to always know.

“Yeah,” Klaus murmurs. “Love you too, sugar.”

Dave goes slow, and Klaus doesn’t goad him on, doesn’t flirt, doesn’t even say please, just shuts his eyes and takes what he’s given. He keeps one hand in Dave’s hair, rests the other one, the one that says _good bye_ , palm-up next to his face on the pillow. He’s pliant and warm in Dave’s arms, flushed down his chest, his lips parted for kisses.

There are a lot of things Dave wants to tell him, a lot of promises he wants to make. What he says is, “Stay with me.”

Klaus nods, nudges his nose into the apple of Dave’s cheek. “M’not going anywhere.”

Dave buries his face in the curve of Klaus’s neck and fucks him a little harder, a little deeper, and Klaus sighs and rolls farther onto his belly, arches his back, moans when he gets the angle right. His body goes tight, and he must be bone tired, days in bed with Dave after months of trudging through the jungle, but he still manages to rock back to meet Dave’s hips. Dave looks up just in time to see him sneak his hand off the pillow and down between his legs.

“One more, sweetheart,” Dave says. “Can you do it?”

Klaus grins, his eyes still shut, his arm shifting underneath him as he strokes himself. “Only 'cause you asked so nice.”

Dave hauls himself up, and he’s already feeling it, his abs, his back, his thighs. He’s going to be a disaster in the morning, a raw nerve. Both of them will be. Sore and sated, smiling at each other over every twinge.

He aches, and Klaus is limp under him, and he digs the balls of his feet into the mattress and dredges up one more round, fucks Klaus with his jaw clenched, his hands bracing Klaus’s hip, his shaky thigh. Klaus whimpers sweet punched-out noises every time Dave drives into him, his whole body jostling with the impact, hand moving faster over himself.

Klaus comes first, somehow, tensing around Dave and bearing down, grimacing like it hurts him to feel so good. It’s harsh and quick, and he sags even more after it’s over. Dave goes to pull out, but Klaus flaps a hand at him, tries to grab his arm and gets nothing but air.

“Don’t stop,” he slurs, his voice muffled in the pillow, “c’mon, babe.”

“I don’t wanna hurt you,” Dave says, even as his thighs tense, his whole body throbs with it.

Klaus opens his eyes and glares up over his shoulder and says, “Fuck me right now.”

So Dave does.

It doesn’t take long, not with Klaus biting his lip, pleased and sleepy, his hand resting over Dave’s on his hip. There’s not a whole lot left in Dave, but he gives it to Klaus, pushes deep and stays there while he shivers out the waves of it. He flops down on top of Klaus, after, and Klaus unfolds the rest of the way onto his stomach, his back to Dave’s chest, humming like there’s nowhere else he’d rather be than sweaty and sticky under 180 pounds of another sweaty sticky person.

“That’s my man,” Klaus says, and then he conks right out.

**2200 KST**

Dave almost manages to get Klaus clean without rousing him.

“Mm,” Klaus groans, right when Dave has a damp cloth between his thighs, “Sorry, baby, I’m done for the night.”

“Believe me,” Dave says, “so am I.”

“What’re - oh,” Klaus says, opening his eyes halfway, looking down at Dave and his washcloth. “Thanks.”

Dave ducks in and kisses Klaus’s belly, right in the middle of his tattoo. “I’d say you should shower, but you’d have to stand.”

“Yeah, absolutely not.” Klaus spreads his legs wider, and Dave finishes tidying him up, as gentle as he can make it where Klaus must be so sore. “Hope you’re ready to carry me tomorrow.”

“Worth it.” Dave tosses the cloth somewhere across the room and crawls up behind Klaus, nests into his back and wraps his arm around his waist. “You good, sweetheart? There’s water on the table.”

Klaus lifts his arm and dangles his hand in the air, so Dave sits back up, gets the glass of water for him. He props up on his elbow just long enough to drink, then passes the glass back to Dave and flops onto the pillow.

“Get some rest,” Dave says, folding in around Klaus again. “I didn’t mean to bother you.”

“You weren’t bothering me,” Klaus says, his voice already slipping into a mumble, “you were cleaning come off of me.”

“I’m the one who put it there. Only seems fair.”

“Chivalry’s not dead.”

“Sleep, Klaus.”

**0230 KST**

Dave comes up rough, a gut rush, already lurching out before he feels the hand on his chest guiding him back down.

It’s dark, and it smells like weed, which is par for the course no matter where he spends the night. He can just make out Klaus next to him in bed, the peaks of his face lit orange by his joint, held up to his mouth like he’d been about to smoke.

“There you are, baby,” Klaus says, low, soft in the night. “That one wasn’t about me, was it?”

Dave takes a slow breath in, out. “Not that one, no.”

Klaus leans down, joint held away from Dave’s chest, and kisses him once, close-lipped and light. “You want some?”

“If you’re offering.”

Dave doesn’t even sit up, just lets Klaus put the joint between his lips so he can inhale. He blows the smoke out through his teeth, watches Klaus take a hit about twice as long as his, hold it in his lungs until Dave’s chest tightens in sympathy. His eyes are adjusting, and he can see Klaus sprawled out naked over the sheets. He’s strong and smart and clever and, in defiance of all of it, fragile. There are so many ways someone could turn his perfect body against him. So many ways.

“Why are you still here?” Dave asks him.

Klaus looks at him. Takes another drag, the light crawling closer to his face. Breathes out. “You’ve never asked me that.”

“Didn’t want to jinx it.”

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No,” Dave says. “Yes. I want you to leave here. I don’t want you to leave me.”

Klaus turns, stubs his joint out in the ashtray on the nightstand. He looks back at Dave in the dark. “I don’t know how I got here, baby. I don’t know what’ll happen if I try to go back.” He pauses, then says, “I don’t know if I can take you with me.”

“I should tell you to try anyway,” Dave says.

“Why’s that?”

Dave says, “I don’t want you to,” and stops, like saying the rest of it will put it into the universe, make it a tangible actionable thing instead of a thought lurking in his belly, in the pits of his eyes.

Klaus lies down, half on top of Dave, his arm resting across Dave’s chest. “Is it selfish of me to ask you to finish that thought?”

“It's not selfish.”

“Could you?”

“I don’t want you to die.”

Klaus reaches up, touches his fingertips to Dave’s mouth. “Don’t bother telling me I shouldn’t be here. I’m stupid and I won’t listen. Okay?”

Dave shuts his eyes, which sends all the wetness there running down his face. Klaus wipes his cheeks with his thumbs, kisses him through it, lets himself be held probably too tightly to be comfortable.

“C'mon, back to sleep,” Klaus says. “Six hours until we saddle up, five until I fuck you in the shower.”

Dave laughs, pushes his face into Klaus’s neck. Nuzzles where the pulse beats up to meet him.


End file.
